


Three times he saw her and one time he didn't

by OhDarnIt



Category: Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Face Punching, Nevada can't remember names for shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-16 13:36:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11829819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhDarnIt/pseuds/OhDarnIt
Summary: Our favorite Dominican drug lord keeps seeing an intriguing woman around in Washington Heights.





	1. Three times he saw her

The first time he saw her she was standing outside a bodega, one of many in Washington heights. He'd seen plenty like her before;  
young people, who opted out the more safer places in Manhattan for the cheaper accommodations that the heights offered. This one, like so many others, had also gotten a job.

_A shit one too_ , Nevada thought with a chuckle, as he watched the 20-something clean the small windows of the tiny bodega, appreciating the view of her ass while she stretched to reach the top of the window glass.

Nevada glanced at his phone to check the time, groaning softly before looking back at the girl who was finishing up with the second window.

7 am. **To. Fucking. Early** if you asked him.

But when your work demands you to be somewhere early in the morning, what can you do? He supposed it helped that he had killed the bastard after they were done. Pluss the view right now was absolutely nothing to complain about.

A grin formed on his face while he puffed on his cigar as she bent over to wet the rag she'd been using in a bucket.

_Nice._

As if she could feel his eyes on her, she turned her head around and found him, indeed, staring at her. While she was at the other side of the street, he could still see that she frowned.

Whether it was from knowing who he was, or if she just wondered what the fuck someone was doing up this early on a Saturday,(it was too fucking early!!!!!!!!) he didn't know.

Didn't really care either, as he lazily lifted a hand, wiggling his fingers in a greeting. Her frown deepened for a second, before she softly shrugged her shoulders and bestowed him with a soft smile and a nod as she turned around to clean the final window, the small one on the door. Her face was pleasant, not traditionally beautiful or sexy, but still attractive.

Definitively did **not** know who he was then, Nevada decided, an eyebrow cocked at the civil greeting she had answered his wave with. Women usually had one of two reactions when he acknowledged them in any way;

_Fuck me_ , or _holy Fuck, where's the exit!?_

Wondering how it would be to press her up against the door and take her right then and there, he watched her back, his eyes glancing over every curve, imagining gripping them as she whimpered, flush against his chest. He bit his lip, and took a step to approach her, but was hindered by the arrival of his car that pulled up on the side of street in front of him.

He glanced over the car to see that she had picked up the bucket and was entering the tiny bodega. He shrugged, much like she'd done a minute earlier, and got into the car. _Plenty of time to get laid today, no need to jump on the first chick you see_ , he decided, looking at the windows she's cleaned as the car pulled away.

_Nice work_ , he noted to himself as the driver asked him,

_“Where too, jefe?”_

 

The second time Nevada saw her, he was getting head in the back seat. The blonde from the club was enthusiastically sucking his cock as the car pulled up at the red light, and stopped.

He hummed with the music playing on the radio, and turned his head to look out the window while the blonde took him in a little deeper, earning a low growl of approval from him. Nevada hadn't thought about her at all after he'd seen her outside the bodega a week ago, but there she was, standing at the corner of the street, in what looked like an argument with a man.

_A boyfriend perhaps_ , Nevada wondered as his hand wrapped itself in the blonde's hair, guiding her to move faster, eyes locked on the fight taking place outside his car.  
Not for much longer, it seemed, as the man tried to place his hand on her shoulder, only for her to push it away. Nevada wasn't sure why he remembered her, but decided not to linger on it as the blonde swirled her tongue around the head of his cock before taking him into her mouth again.

He couldn't hear what was being said because of the radio, but judging by the glance she sent the car as she took a step away from the man, she was furious. His windows were tinted, of course, so she couldn’t see him. She snapped her head back to the man, probably because he said something, and made a grimace as she replied.  
Part of Nevada wanted to hear what was being said, while the other was quite enjoying the sense of mystery of not knowing what was going on outside of his window while getting blown.

Nevada pushed the blonde further down on his cock, ignoring the gagging sound she made as he got closer to climaxing. Breathing hard through his nose, he watched as the the redhead (how had he not noticed that her hair was red last time?) pushed the man away from her , and turned to leave. The man grabbed her arm, and her other hand went into a fist as she spun back around, and slammed it into his face.

As her fist connected with the man's nose, Nevada came with a loud grunt. Holding the blonde's head in place while he emptied his load down her throat, Nevada watched the man hit the ground as the light turned green. The car pulled away, and the woman stormed off. He patted the blonde between his legs on the head as she gasped for air after he let go of her hair.

“Good girl”, he muttered to her as a little of his come dribbled down her chin, glancing at the redhead disappearing in the distance.

_“Good girl”._

The third time he saw her, she was dancing.  
The music of the club was loud, pulsing, and perfect for fucking. Which is why he'd brought the brunette who'd been grinding on him earlier into the bathroom and bent her over the sink. After finishing both himself and her, he swaggered out of the shitty bathroom, arm thrown over the brunette’s shoulders.  
Her legs were still shaking, he noted with a grin, as they re entered the main room of the club.

And there she was. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he was surprisingly pleased when he saw her moving to the bass of the generic pop song playing over the speakers. After her argument on the corner three days ago that had ended in a broken nose, or so he had assumed,  
Nevada had started thinking of her in times he shouldn't be, like when he was laying in bed two nights ago smoking his cigar, or when he jacking off in the shower this morning, or when he was about to come in the brunette earlier.

_Wait, what the fuck was up with that?!_

That's just bullshit, he didn't need this crap. He pulled the brunette closer. _What was her name again? Julie? Juliana? Some shit like that_. He leaned over and whispered a drink order into her ear, sent her to the bar telling her to put it on his tab.  
He took a seat in VIP section of the club, surrounded by his men. Julia ( _Juliet??_ ) Swayed back with his scotch and a glass of champagne for herself. He rolled his eyes at her expensive choice, while she settled down on his lap.

Nevada looked out over the dance floor, willing himself not to look at the redhead that kept showing up everywhere. Not that he was actually able to look anywhere else. Something kept pulling his eyes back to her moving form, swaying with the music, the shadow of a smile playing on her lips...

_Nope_! Nevada grabbed his brunette, _(was her name Jackie?_ ) and promptly showed his tongue down her throat allowing her head to block his line of sight. Joan _(???? He really should ask her name later_ ) seemed happy enough, kissing him back with enthusiasm.

This kept happening for the rest of the night. Every time Nevada released his brunette, his eyes automatically went straight to the bodega girl with one hell of a right hook. It became almost a game, how long could he avoid looking at her without using Jamie ( _he was pretty sure that was her name_ ) to block the view. Nevada was fucking impressed though.

No matter how late into the night it got, and eventually into the morning, his ( _no , **not** his!!_ ) redhead kept dancing, never leaving the dance floor. Her friends alternated between the bar and dancing with her, but she stayed, almost captured in her own world, containing only herself and the music. It captivated Nevada and he was furious about it. The more scotch he got into his system, the angrier he got. But as he decided himself to confront her about it , the last song ended, the lights turned on, and the crowd surrounding her began to move outside. As she turned and started walking with the crowd, her eyes met his, and he couldn't help but feel like the smile playing on her lips was meant for him.

_How fucking dares she!!?_

Standing up and tossing Jamie aside, he stormed after her, jumping into the sweaty, drunk crowd, pushing people aside trying to reach the little bitch who'd taunted him so.  
Seeing a redhead right in front of him, he grabbed her and jerked her around to face him, only to be faced with a very tipsy older woman, who was definitively **not** the redhead he was looking for.

“the fuck do you want”? She asked him, eyes widening as she realised who she was mouthing of to.  
Nevada didn't care, pushing her away as a wave of apologies were thrown at him, back in the chase. But as he got outside of the club, he realised that he wasn't gonna catch her tonight, the amount of people hanging outside the club making it impossible for him to locate her. And even if he had caught her, what had he planned to do? Yell at her for dancing? _Fuck that._

He sighed, turning around to see his men walking up to him, Jamie in toll, looking unsure if she was even supposed to be there. Nevada took pity in her, brought her home, and fucked her good, taking out some of the frustrations of the night out in bed with her. the thing that brought him over the edge that night was not Jamie’s moans or begging or even the way she felt around him, but the thought of the way his redhead had swayed her hips and tossed her hair, smiling to no one and everyone at the same time.

When he woke up the next morning, he thanked Jamie for the evening, and hinted strongly that she leave immediately. She complied, but turned around as she was was on her way out the door, looked at him and said;

“my name’s Kathy”.

_Well, Fuck._


	2. One time he didn't

The music blasted in your ears while you ran, the sweat beading on your forehead, as you maneuvered through the other people in the park. Your feet hit the ground to the beat of your favorite song. 

You gasped for air, you really should go for runs more often, but honestly, you really didn’t like it. At least it beat going to some gym filled with people in better shape than you.

You could see a small hill in front of you, and internally agreed that you’d stop for a break once you reached it. Pushing forward, your muscles objected but you ignored it, and  _ finally,  _ you could stop.    

 

You were almost surprised that you saw him before his eyes had caught you. 

The first time you'd felt his stare burn into your back was one early Saturday morning while you'd been cleaning the small windows outside the bodega. when the feeling of being stared at became too intense, you had turned around to find Trujillo.

 

Of course, you'd heard about him before, but at the time you'd had no idea the handsome man sporting sunglasses and a leather jacket while puffing on a cigar was  _ the _ trujillo.

You'd frowned, surprised to see someone else up this early on a Saturday, but nodded your head when his hand raised into a greeting. 

  
  


The next time of weren't actually sure it was him, the tinted windows on the suv hindering you to see who was in it. However, you could have sworn it was the same SUV that had picked him up that saturday while you stormed away from the black car and Brandon with his newly broken nose. 

 

You were quite proud of that fact,  telling everyone who asked about the bruising on your knuckles about the incident. 

  
  


Last time had been at one of the many clubs in the heights. You were dancing when you felt the familiar burning sensation. Turning around, your suspicions were confirmed. 

 

He was sitting in the vip-section, with a beautiful brunette by his side. Throughout the night you kept feeling his eyes on you, but every time you turned around he was busy showing his tongue down the brunette’s throat, or talking to some of the men surrounding him.

You asked one of your friends about him. She'd quickly told you

 

“ _ if you want to get high, he has the best produce in the heights. If you want to get laid, he has the best dick in New York”.  _

 

At the first thing you shook your head , at the second you blushed and laughed. 

_ So that's Trujillo.  _ You were only able to catch his glance once, when the club was closing. Considering he'd been looking at you all night, even with such a beauty next to him (that was quite flattering) you sent him a small smile.

He didn't seem to happy about that. 

You didn't get long to think about that though, as your friend dragged you out of the crowd, into the night and to an afterparty. 

  
  


Now, you stood in the park, slightly huddled over trying to catch you breath from your run, when the sun reflected in the bling on his sunglasses for a second danced over your eye.

You straightened your back,and for the first time, actually looked at him. He was about a hundred feet away, talking and laughing with a group of men surrounding him.

 

The only reason you could see him at all was because you were on top of a little hill, looking slightly down onto the group mostly clad in black.

 

His hair was styled,  _ with extreme care _ , you though, watching the product glistening in the hot summer sun. The sunglasses shielding his eyes looked expensive.

That, or they were knockoffs.

A leather jacket, probably the same he’d worn the other times you’d seen him, was clad on his shoulders, even on a day so hot no one in their right mind would ever wear leather.

Your eyes wandered further down. 

 

_ Great ass. _

 

Even his shoes looked expensive. You glanced down at your own outfit, a sweaty old tank top and running shorts so worn and old that they should have been thrown out two years ago. 

 

You almost felt ashamed at your state of clothing. Then you reminded yourself that he hadn’t seen you, and even if he had, who cares, you’re out jogging, not on a hot date. 

 

Also, why the hell would he care at all about what you were wearing? It’s not like you knew each other, or were going to in the near future. You shook your head. 

  
However, you couldn’t stop looking at him. You could hear your friends voice in your head;  _ “Just go talk to him, for fucks sake, it’s not like he’s got rabies” _ . 

 

“You know what? I will. Fucking watch me!”you muttered to yourself, and lifted your foot to start walking down to the leather clad dominican. 

 

But then your phone buzzed in your pocket. The movers were at the apartment. 

 

_ Shit _ . 

 

So much for a day in the park, or talking to hot drug lords. With a last appreciative glance at  his behind, you sighed and started jogging back home, to pack up, and leave.

 

Had you stayed for about two more seconds, the arguably most dangerous and attractive man in Washington Heights would finally realized someone was watching him, and turned around.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, that's it folk, hope you liked it :D all thoughts are more than welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, hope you enjoyed this, the second chapter should be out soon. All thoughts are welcome, so please let me know what you think :D


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